


Interstate 70

by nyoka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 14:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyoka/pseuds/nyoka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you want to do now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interstate 70

**Author's Note:**

> Future!ficlet. Originally posted [here](http://nyokafic.tumblr.com/post/49390556070/untitled-1).

_Interstate 70_   
_Outside of Ravens, Utah_

The world is shaped by the desert wind and sand, cradled by the sharp peaks of red mountains, and left under a sky bleached from blue to white.

“What now?” Dean asks, turning to Castiel, the October sun in his eyes.

Cas looks over at Dean, his hair tossed up by the wind, his eyes dark and daring.

They’re standing, side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder, their fingers loosely wound together. They drove for days to get here, although Dean’s not exactly sure where here is. But they’ve no particular place to be anyway, no final destination in mind. It’s just the road and the soft turn of the earth, the two of them standing alone at the top of the world.

Cas looks at Dean for a moment longer, smiles and eventually says, “What do you want to do now?”

“I…” Dean frowns, because he’s not really sure. The gates are closed. Sam is shacking up with Amelia and the dog. Kev, Garth, and Linda are vacationing in Florida (sending postcards every day). And Dean’s been driving for weeks, trying to figure his life out, trying to see a future for himself when he’s never had the freedom to see one before.

Cas showed up six days ago. Popped into the passenger seat of the Impala, making himself comfortable there, all his grooves and blunt lines slotting perfectly into the dark leather seats of his girl like he’s always been there. Like they all go together, somehow, some way.

They haven’t really talked about it though, but contentment curls up in Dean’s belly every time Cas fiddles with the radio, every time he asks for clarification on something Dean says, every time Dean cracks a joke at the angel’s expense.

Now Castiel’s hand is cool and dry in Dean’s own. Dean looks down at where their fingers lace together, the press of palm to palm. He turns Castiel’s hand over, letting the pads of his fingers trace the start and stop of his life line.

_What do you want to do now?_

Castiel’s waiting silence is warm, heavy enough to settle against Dean’s chest, to fit itself all along Dean’s too-sharp edges. Dean never thought he’d get here, to a place where everything feels possible, where the world is more light than shadow, more real than imagined.

Dean lets Castiel’s hand go, and slides his own along the back of Castiel’s neck. Castiel moves forward as if he’s been waiting for this, framing Dean’s face between his palms. They watch each other for a long moment, silent.

“I want to do…” Dean says after another beat, pausing because Castiel is moving forward at his voice, his soft lips sliding along Dean’s cheek, settling on Dean’s mouth.

Dean sucks in a breath; Castiel’s entire body is pressed warm against his, fit perfectly. He swallows, closes his eyes, and on a deep exhale he whispers, “ _This_.”


End file.
